


Catch Me As I Fall

by Francowitch



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Francowitch/pseuds/Francowitch
Summary: A well placed fall can mean the end of more than just the season, but also the potential to the loss of ones career. Yuri dreaded what would become of him when he had a misstep, the feel of the cold ice, the deathly silence of the rink as the medics carted him off of the ice. What is there left when the one thing you love most in your life is no longer an option?





	Catch Me As I Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatAvalon (CazinaIna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CazinaIna/gifts).



> So my dear dear sister from another mother & mister [Cat ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CazinaIna/pseuds/CatAvalon) has her birthday today [well technically yesterday, but I am not counting it as I have yet to go to bed lol...]... and my dear friend asked for an OtaYuri fic that was smutty, but would also make her cry... So I hope that I managed to accomplish that for you!!!
> 
> Thank you to my dear friend [icycoldmoonprincess ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icycoldmoonprincess) who took the time to beta this monster [it totally got away from me like most things do lol]...

**Catch Me As I Fall**

 

Yuri was not a stranger to sports injuries, as a professional athlete he had to be careful of his knees and ankles in particular. One false jump or spin could mean time off of the ice, or worse, the end of your career. For Yuri though, he was happy being able to skate, to travel the world. While he had a relationship with Otabek they were happy in continuing to skate professionally. 

It was just another competition; just another routine which had him spinning around on the slick ice, the crowd screaming and chanting his name as the music rang through the rink. The moment he went to lift off into his triple axel he knew that something was wrong. It was the quad loop just before, his landing had been off just enough that trying to lift off in the next jump would only lead to disaster. Yuri was stubborn though. He needed to complete his routine, he wanted the points. He was better than the morons who got too much inside their own head. He could complete this. 

The crack was audible over the music, or at least it felt that way. The world was spinning then there was nothing but pain and cold hard ice. As the music stopped and the noise of the crowd changed to a hushed silence, Yuri knew it was all over for him.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus fuck old man, leave me alone,” Yuri snapped at Viktor as he jumped up to help Yuri shift on the bed. 

“I am just trying to help you, Yura.”

“Helping?” Yuri’s voice rose, the faint sound of hysteria colouring his words. “This is what you call helping? Being on my ass with every motion or cough? Don’t you have a pig to take care of? Go and bother him.”

“Yurochka there is only so much I will tolerate before I snap. “

“Then fuck off why don't ya,” Yuri pouted, hissing as he felt a shock of pain shoot through him. 

Viktor’s lips sealed to a thin line, his next argument dying on his lips, his eyes speaking volumes, full of pity. Yuri threw back his head against the pillows, looking away from the older skater. Yuri could feel the pin prick of tears behind his eyelids. He didn't need pity, he wanted to skate. The last thing he thought he would have to deal with at twenty-one was the reality that he might have to retire thanks to one stupid mistake. 

Doctors and nurses flit in and out of the room, checking his levels and bandages, each visit making Yuri feel more and more tense. He hated how helpless he was, that he would be stuck in that damn hospital bed for at least another week and then there were talks of potential surgery and all that came with that. There were recovery plans and physio, but nothing was ever said about the ice or if he would ever be able to compete again. 

 

* * *

“Fuck, this is irritating!”

The sound of pans crashing came through the speaker as Otabek watched the scene over Skype.

“Just what are you trying to do, Yura?” Otabek was smirking, trying to imagine just what mess Yuri was currently making in the kitchen.

His boyfriend was always self sufficient and stubborn, never wanting to rely on others when it came to things. Even after the accident he pushed his way through, refusing to have even Otabek fly over to stay with him, insisting that Otabek needed to train while he needed to do his physio and work on his ‘recovery plan’. While it had hurt being pushed away like that, he also understood what it was like to have an injury that pulled you out of commission for a while. 

Yuri limped his way into view. His hair was flipped out of place as he scowled and sat down in front of his laptop. “Eggs.”

“Eggs?”

“Yes, Beka!” Yuri’s voice rose wavering slightly as he tried to explain just what he was up to. “I was trying to make some fucking eggs and slipped. The pan fell from my grip. There are eggs everywhere and the thought of trying to bend down and clean them up…fuck it. I am drinking water today. At least that I can’t fuck up.”

“Yura, you need to eat, baby.”

“What’s the point?” Yuri slumped his head falling onto his crossed arms.

Otabek frowned, “Yura, you will not get better if you keep doing this. Eat something for me. I want to see you back on the ice.”

“I guess you should look up some old videos if you want to see that.”

“What?”

There was a mumble which Otabek was not able to hear, but the tone made Otabek’s heart crash to his stomach. 

“Yura, baby, I can’t understand. What are you telling me?”

Yuri looked into the camera, “I am never skating again.”

Otabek blanched, “You just need time, therapy--”

Yuri scowled, “Not according to the doctors. My career is over.”

Otabek ran his hand over his face. He looked at his boyfriend properly for the first time in what felt like forever. He saw the red puffiness around his eyes only accentuated by the purplish tint indicating lack of sleep, how his overall colour wasn’t just his normal pale, but actually had a more sickly tone. His eyes were not as bright. His Yuri was losing the spark which gave him life.

“You should get off. I am sure that you should be doing something like training.”

Otabek opened his mouth to protest only to have the call disconnect, leaving him staring at himself on a blank screen. Otabek pushed back from his laptop, getting up to pace his apartment. It was his day off so he wasn’t expected anywhere in particular, but that call from Yuri just now was all the incentive he needed. He went over to his cell which was plugged into the wall charger, firing off a few texts over to Viktor before going to his room to pack some things.

 

* * *

The flight was only five hours. Combined with negotiating with his coach and Viktor to shift his training to the St. Petersburg rink, the trip took about eight hours total  Otabek sighed as he dragged his bags to Yuri’s apartment. He was happy that he had his own key to the place, something which they had exchanged after a few times where they had missed each other. Last thing he wanted to do was to call Viktor and disrupt him any more than he already had. 

Turning the key, he found something he had not been expecting. While he knew that Yuri was doing poorly he never could have imagined it could be that bad. Otabek had to push on the door. There was garbage piled up to the doorway, making it hard for him to get inside. The whole apartment was dim, with a stale scent of being shut up for too long and antibiotics. Otabek could feel his heart breaking as Potya came out to greet him, her fur not as glossy as it normally was. Otabek moved swiftly, picking up the trash that was strewn about, shoving it into an empty garbage bag while making a pile of discarded clothing to be washed. Otabek was halfway through the second load of dishes when there was a noise behind him.

“The fuck are you doing here, Altin?” Yuri’s voice rang through the small kitchen, making Otabek jump in surprise. 

Otabek spun around sputtering, “Yura?”

Otabek’s eyes raked over Yuri’s form. He was bone thin, all of his beautifully toned body now nothing but skin and bones. How the hell had this happened when they Skyped every night? How did he not see just what was happening to someone he said he loved?

“What are you doing in my kitchen?” Yuri’s voice was near a whine as he asked once more. There was a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“I thought you were out at physio--” Otabek did not finish his sentence before he dashed to Yuri’s side.

As they had been standing there Otabek noticed how Yuri had started to weave, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed into Otabek’s arms. Otabek could feel tremors running through him as he lifted up Yuri, who felt so small and light by comparison. Carefully, Otabek picked his way through the apartment, taking Yuri to his bedroom. The bedroom was much in the same state as the rest of the apartment, looking beyond dingy and in need of a heavy cleaning… or a well placed match. Otabek laid Yuri down, sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. 

Otabek felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He stood up as he saw that it was Viktor on the other end. Looking back to Yuri, who seemed to be asleep, Otabek walked softly out of the bedroom to answer the phone and to get some answers.

“The fuck is happening here, Nikiforov?” Otabek hissed into the phone. He was not one to swear often, and certainly never to people older than him, but the way that things were here he felt betrayed. 

“Ahh,” Viktor’s voice was flat on the other end,”you have seen Yurio then?”

“I am here, yes. Why the hell did you not call to tell me that it had gotten this bad? How? I thought you and Katsuki were coming over here and taking care of him?”

“Otabek Altin, in all these years name one time where Yuri would allow anyone to take care of him.” Viktor’s voice was tired, but still stern. “Even after Nikolai passed, he was stubborn and put that into his skating. But this--”

“Why didn’t you tell me?’

“You know why.”

Otabek sighed, of course. “Well, now I am here. First thing, I have to clean this place up. Second, is it really as bad as he was saying? Can he no longer--” Otabek couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought that his beautiful Yuri could no longer capture people’s hearts while on the ice was too much for him to bear. 

Viktor sighed heavily on the other end, “I don’t know. With how much weight and muscle he has lost, there is no way he can be ready, even if he were allowed on the ice right now. He won’t tell us about his doctor visits, and he is old enough that the doctor wouldn’t tell us if we were to ask.”

Otabek looked around. He needed to get the place cleaned and organized, then he would work with Yuri. 

“Otabek,” Viktor spoke with uncertainty, “did you want Yuuri and I to come over after we finish here? Maybe help you with things?”

Otabek sighed, a calloused hand rubbing along his face, “Yeah, might be an idea.”

There was talking in the background, “Oh Yuuri said he wants to make dinner for you both tonight if that is okay.”

“Yeah, actually, that would be good. It looks like he hasn't been eating anything more substantial than ramen, judging by the mountain of containers I have had to throw away.”

“We will be there in the next hour.” Viktor paused, “I am sorry Otabek.”

Otabek didn’t reply as Viktor hung up. He slipped his phone back into his back pocket, deciding he would go back to the kitchen and at the very least get that finished before they got there. First, he checked on Yuri, who was still asleep. He pushed back a lock of golden hair behind Yuri’s ear, kissing him on the temple.

“I wish you had said something,” Otabek sighed softly, “I should have noticed, I'm sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.”

Otabek took a deep breath, standing back up to take care of the dishes, which were thankfully not as bad as when he had arrived. Otabek had moved onto tidying up the living room when there was a knock on the door. Otabek stretched, feeling the muscles in his back ache as he moved towards the door. 

“Viktor, Katsuki.” Otabek greeted them both, opening the door wider to allow them inside. 

Otabek noticed the way that Yuuri’s lips pinched together, analyzing the state of the apartment.

“It is actually better than when I got here.” Otabek spoke, pointing to the three black bags which were piled to the side, ready to be taken down to the bins.

Yuuri nodded, blinking back tears, “I will get to cooking, if that is alright?”

“Yeah,” Otabek nodded, “You know the way, ya?”

“Of course.” Yuuri smiled, his eyes looking sad. 

Viktor clapped his hands together, “I can help too. Let me take these bags downstairs and then we can start on some of this laundry.”

Otabek nodded, deciding to go check on Yuri and to get some of the baskets of laundry which were piling up in the room as well. Yuri was awake glaring as Otabek walked in.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Yura.” Otabek sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the way that Yuri held his arms around his knees. “How could you have not told me about this?”

“I told you it was over.” Yuri’s voice was so small.

“Baby, it isn’t over. You are the strongest man I know. You will be back and competing again.”

Yuri snorted, “Not fucking likely. I--”

Yuri stiffened as there was a shout from the kitchen sounding like Viktor getting scolded by Yuuri over something. 

“What the fuck are those two idiots doing here? I thought I took away the old man’s key.”

“I invited them, Yura,” Otabek spoke, not caring that Yuri was mad at him for it. “You are hiding yourself, wasting away to nothing. You need to eat, you need to exercise, you have to stop wallowing like you are.”

Yuri scowled, “What is the fucking point? I can’t do anything on this fucking leg anymore.” 

“The point? There is always a point, Yura.”

Tears spilled over running down Yuri’s face in thick drops. “I have the start of jumper’s knee, Beka. Even if I gain back my muscle and get back onto the ice, my life is over. I can’t jump or perform anymore.”

Otabek sighed, “You don’t even know that you can’t, and the start doesn’t mean that it is over. I was told the same thing five years ago. Remember when I fell at worlds? I thought it was over too, and you fucking kicked my ass, challenging me to get over myself and get back on the ice.”

“So when your knees go to shit you can throw the blame my way, I will deserve it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare say shit like that, Plisetsky.” Otabek swore, Yuri’s eyes going wide, as it was not often that Otabek would raise his voice at Yuri. “If you want to be mad at me that is fine. I deserve it for not coming here to kick your damn bratty ass sooner. But don’t you fucking dare for one second say you regret pushing me to get back onto the ice.”

“I’m sorry.” Yuri’s voice was but a whisper, and the words repeated as he collapsed into Otabek’s arms sobbing against his chest. “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry…”

Otabek wrapped his strong arms around his lover, pulling him in tighter. He ran his fingers through the tangled hair, making calming noises. 

“Yura, you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Otabek pressed a kiss against Yuri’s head, “You are also much smellier than I remembered. Why don't you have a hot shower? I am sure by now Katsuki is close to finishing dinner. You can have a nice hot meal with family and then you and I can talk more about what we are doing.”

Yuri sniffed, giggling slightly when he was told he smelt, “Yeah, I guess it has been a while.”

Otabek gently lifted Yuri’s face, his thumb rubbing across his lower lip. “I missed you, Baby. How about I check on dinner? Then I can join you in the shower and help with that rats nest you call hair.”

Yuri closed his eyes and hummed contently as Otabek leaned in for a kiss. “Okay.”

Otabek was not surprised to see that Yuri was busily cooking, singing under his breath while Viktor was hovering, doing any task that was asked of him with nervous glances towards the bedroom.

Otabek coughed, “Uhh sorry for being loud there.”

Yuuri stopped humming looking to Otabek, “Are you both alright?”

“No,” Otabek scratched his undercut with a loaded sigh, “but we will be. I think.”

Yuuri nodded going back to his work, “Dinner will be another forty-five minutes.”

“Fantastic. I am just going to get him into a shower and we will be right out.”

Yuuri and Viktor both smiled at that.

Otabek took his luggage, which was still sitting in the living room, to the bedroom where Yuri was still sitting in his bed, looking a bit more aware but still out of it. 

“Ready?” Otabek pulled Yuri from his hundred yard stare.

Yuri smiled wanly. It wasn’t a proper one that reached his eyes, but it was a start. “Yeah.”

Yuri accepted Otabek’s help getting undressed, covering his body as best as he could with his arms. 

Otabek kissed each of Yuri’s hands, “Don’t hide from me, love.”

Otabek carefully removed the lounge pants which hung loose around his waist, his lips in a tight line as he saw the ugly scar which now ravaged Yuri’s ankle and up his calf. Gently he helped Yuri from the bed, walking him towards the ensuite where he got the water running to the perfect temperature before stripping down himself. 

Together they stepped under the spray, the heat from the water washing away the wariness he still felt from the long trip. Yuri moaned as the water poured down his body, and Otabek ran his hands along Yuri’s form, his fingers mapping how Yuri’s body had changed. He washed the tangled hair carefully, feeling slightly aroused as he heard the moans which came from Yuri when his fingers massaged his scalp. While he would have liked to play he knew that there were others waiting for them just in the other room. Once he got through the conditioning they switched places, allowing Otabek to wash his own hair. 

 

* * *

 

It was a little over an hour before Otabek and Yuri reemerged from the bedroom. Viktor and Yuuri both looked up from where they sat on the sofa, visibly relaxing as they saw the tentative smiles on the young couple’s faces. Yuri’s hair was back to a brighter gold, damp and brushed back into a braid. He was wearing some of Otabek’s clothing after finding that everything he owned was filthy, the larger shirt and pants hanging off of his skeletal form. Yuri was also using his cane, something he loathed but, after some argument with Otabek, decided to use. 

“Nice to see you, Yurio.” Viktor smiled, his eyes looking at the pair nervously, concerned that he might get snapped at. 

“Hey old man, Pig.” Yuri looked down to his feet, flushing slightly, “Thank you both for coming….for everything.”

Yuuri jumped up tears in his eyes, “Oh Yurio, you never have to thank us. Come, I made dinner. There is lots so you will have some leftover for later too.”

Yuri squirmed slightly in the embrace that Yuuri pressed on him, looking for help from Otabek and instead only getting a stern look to accept it. They ate together, Yuri was surprised and almost burst into tears when he saw that they were piroshki filled with katsudon. While he had wanted to gorge on them, he slowly ate only two, moaning as he sat back, rubbing his full and extended belly. After dinner they retired back to the sofa, Yuri choosing to curl onto Otabek’s lap, his head laying against his broad chest, humming with content as Otabek ran his hands along his arm soothingly. Viktor and Yuuri excused themselves and left after having packed up the leftovers into containers and taking a last bag of garbage down with them. 

“Thank you, Beka.”

“I know this is hard, but I am going to push you and support you every step of the way.”

Yuri snorted, “Such a hard ass.”

“Only because you need it.” Otabek nuzzled against Yuri’s neck. “Come Yura, let me take you to bed.”

Yuri clung to Otabek as he was carried back to the bedroom. Once laying together they kissed, gently at first, passion building with each moment. Otabek was nude, staring down at Yuri who was still clothed despite everything.

Otabek played with the hem of Yuri’s shirt, “Let’s get this off.”

Yuri flushed pulling down on the hem. “No.”

Otabek kissed Yuri’s neck at the base of his ear, “You know I saw everything when we were in the shower.”

“I am ugly now, Beka. You deserve better.” Yuri pouted.

“You are anything but ugly, my love.”

“But you didn't do anything when we were in the shower.”

Otabek’s hand stilled, “What?”

“You say I am not ugly, but when we were in the shower, you only washed my hair. There was nothing else.”

Otabek collapsed against Yuri with a groan, “You are impossible, you know that? You remember we had guests, right? I wanted to take you so bad. I wanted to ravage you and take you so many times in that shower, just fuck you deeply until you couldn't walk.”

Yuri shivered, feeling Otabek’s breath against his neck. “So why didn’t you?”

“Viktor and Katsuki were in the other room, Yura. They were waiting for us.”

Yuri snorted, “I guess. I mean you say this like they have never done that to us.”

Otabek chuckled, “Noted. Next time they are over, I will make sure to take you when the moments and mood strikes. I hope you aren't against the idea of me just fucking you against the counter or right there on the sofa in front of them. So many times I just want to pin you down when you walk past me or look my way.”

Yuri shivered with delight, a soft moan escaping from his lips. “Please.”

Otabek went back to lifting Yuri’s shirt, this time getting no resistance, his hands sliding along the hard angled planes of his chest. In time, Yuri would fill out again. In time, Otabek would have his Yuri back, slowly, one foot in front of the other. Otabek kissed every inch of skin, sucking Yuri’s pink nipples until they were red and standing at attention, his fingers sliding down to cup the front of Yuri’s pants, pleased to feel that he was hard, that he was interested and wanting him.

Otabek hooked his fingers into the waistband of Yuri’s pants, kissing him deeply as he slipped them down, Yuri’s erection thick and leaking as it was freed from the confines of the fabric. Otabek stroked Yuri firmly, enjoying the low moan which emanated from his lover. 

“You are so beautiful, my Yura.” Otabek nipped at Yuri’s neck, “How could you ever think that I could not want you?”

Otabek took a bit of lube, adding it to his fingers. He then slipped his hand between Yuri’s legs, a wet finger tracing the tight rim. He pressed one digit inside, moaning as he felt Yuri’s heat suck him inside. Yuri writhed against Otabek, his legs opening up wider in invitation, his hips pumping as he rutted into the air, his cock leaning with precum. Otabek took his time, though, opening Yuri slowly, knowing it had been so long since the last time. He didn’t want to hurt him in his haste and desire. 

“Beka,  please, I need you inside me.” Yuri whined, “I am going to cum.”

Otabek chuckled low, his lips against Yuri’s ear, “Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love me that you can cum for me with just the use of my fingers and nothing else.”

Yuri whimpered, fucking himself on Otabek’s fingers, his own hands digging into the sheets below them. Otabek curled up his fingers, scissoring them with each thrust, ensuring to brush up against his prostate. Yuri’s back arched as hot jets of cum spurted out, painting white thick lines along Yuri’s chest. Otabek didn’t stop though, continuing to thrust up into Yuri, adding in a third finger, wanting him nice and loose, sensitive and ready for him. 

It wasn’t until Yuri was crying, tears flowing down his cheeks, his cock hardened once more that Otabek pulled out his fingers from deep inside. Otabek then changed his position, placing himself between Yuri’s long legs before slicking his cock up and slowly pushing himself past the fluttering ring of muscle. Otabek moaned as he bottomed out, the feeling of Yuri wrapped around him, his legs locked around his waist. 

Otabek kissed Yuri before he started to move. “I love you so much, my Yura.”

Yuri moaned as he felt Otabek start to thrust, shallow at first then deeper, his cock dragging along his insides with each motion. Their breathing was synchronized as they moved together. Otabek could feel the build of his orgasm. He wanted to fill Yuri, remind him how much he was loved. Otabek thrusted deep a few more times. “Cum with me Yura.”

Otabek moaned as he felt Yuri tighten around him, milking out every last drop. Otabek wrapped his hand around Yuri’s erection, pumping along with each thrust. Together they came, Otabek collapsing beside Yuri, panting heavily. Yuri took his discarded shirt, wiping down his chest before snuggling against Otabek with a pleased sigh. 

Otabek kissed Yuri’s forehead, “That was needed.”

Yuri hummed in agreement. 

“I am sorry that I didn’t come to you sooner.”

Yuri sighed, “I wouldn’t have let you. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“You will skate again.”

The sentence hung between them for a few heartbeats. Otabek held his breath, uncertain if he had just fucked everything over with what he said.

“With you here, I think I might be able to do anything.”

Otabek closed his eyes, letting out a breath, “Then I promise I will never leave your side.”

“That sounds like a proposal, Altin.”

Otabek chuckled softly. The thought of marriage was one he had been playing around with for a while now, but that would come in time. For now, he wanted Yuri to be in recovery. The rest could come later.

“Perhaps,” Otabek kissed Yuri’s forehead once again. “Let’s rest. In the morning we can talk about that leg of yours and getting back onto the ice.”

Yuri hummed softly, his breathing slowing until he was asleep, Otabek not far behind him. The last thing Otabek heard before he shut his eyes was the soft sound of  _ ‘I love you’ _ ’. Recovery would take time, but at least now they were together, catching each other as they fell.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Comments and Kudos feeds my muse!
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr for more fics and chatter... my ask is always open  
> [francowitch ](http://francowitch.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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